


not even god can forgive me for this

by too_much_in_the_sun



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley, Van Helsing (2004)
Genre: Gen, fair warning i couldn't even look at this long enough to see what characters are in it, just absolute trash garbage and may god have mercy on my soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-01
Updated: 2004-09-01
Packaged: 2019-09-06 19:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16838578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/too_much_in_the_sun/pseuds/too_much_in_the_sun
Summary: This is imported from Tumblr, where I apparently archived it years ago. Written at some point in 2004, this is the first Frankenstein thing I ever wrote.It is also terrible.





	not even god can forgive me for this

**Author's Note:**

> At this point in my life (I would've been about twelve or thirteen), Van Helsing and Young Frankenstein were the only pieces of Frankenstein media I had ever consumed. They left... an effect.
> 
> Anyway, the exact date here is a lie, because there's no way I'm digging up old floppy disks to check. I have gotten as close as I could without doing that.
> 
> I mean hey: now you can compare/contrast this Frankenstein fic with the stuff I was doing a decade later. I think they call that character growth.
> 
> Posted on Tumblr on 20 December 2012.

"Money’s no object, Victor. Remember that.“

The mad doctor turned away from the speaker and strode towards his operating table, seething. Of course money was no object, any fool could see that. And his name was Dr. Frankenstein, for God’s sake. Still, work was nearing completion on his life’s work, and a mighty thunderstorm loomed over the horizon.

A face swam into his vision. "Remember me, Victor?” it leered in a Scottish accent.

“No, of course not,” the doctor muttered.

“Oh, really? Do you remember Scotland, then?”

“No, no,” he lied. The memory was still fresh. How he’d gotten suspicious of his partner, Herman something. How he’d finally thrown him into the ocean over a cliff.

“If not, then,” Herman hissed, “I can’t tell you the secret I took to my grave.”

A secret? Perhaps Herman could help with the project. “Yes, yes, of course I remember.” he said greedily.

“I made it work, Victor. I alone made it work. My secret was to reverse the poles on the generator.”

Herman faded away.

“Just reverse the poles?” Victor muttered. “Reverse the poles? It’s that simple?”

After switching the poles, he paced anxiously. The storm on the horizon rumbled threateningly.


End file.
